Broken
by Harle the Dark Moon Dragon
Summary: Yukito helpz Touya through a painful recoverie, mon darlingz....


broken

Broken

by Harle, the Dark Moon Dragon ^_^   
A fanfiction based on Cardcaptor Sakura, property of CLAMP.

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WARNING : This story involves a homosexual romance (shounen ai). If such things offend you, please read no further. I take no responsibility for your own feelings towards relationships of this nature.   
Special Thanks: Thanks to Anna for giving me some crucial information about broken bones. I've never actually broken a limb or anything before, but good old Anna came through with the info. ^_^ Oddly enough, the same night I asked her about it was the night that she told me she'd like to become a doctor. Well, in that case, Anna, this story's for you. Good luck in Med school! ^_^   
And of course, many thanks to Sarah for sticking with me and giving me the strength to finish what I start. ^_^ I love you, hon! 

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The sky is dark. 

Thunder rumbles from the heaven and lightning flashes with brilliant intensity. Far below this, on a muddy soccer field surrounded by cheering fans under plastic tarps and umbrellas, two teams of young men play an ages old game of skill. The rumbling of the thunder echoes the roars of the players and the crowd and with the searing shots of lighting come the powerful thrusts of legs kicking and the scuffling of limbs on the torn grass. 

"Touya! Heads up!" 

Emerging from the powerfully moving cloister of young men emerges one who strikes a physically impressive chord. He is a tall young man, dark haired and with a look of feirce intensity on his face. He is Touya Kinomoto, he is a superb student, a superlative athelete and a determined worker. 

Right now, he is thunder incarnate. 

His long legs propel him effortlessly along the field and his eyes are fixed on the muddied soccer ball which is grinding to a halt on the damaged turf. He is exhausted, physically and mentally, but right now he pushes all of that aside and there is but the ball in his mind. His feet strike the ground with spite and frustration as he fights to keep the stinging rain out of his eyes. The ball comes closer and closer still. Touya's legs are on fire, their musculature beyond the limits of his endurance, but he does not care. You are weak, Touya, he screams at himself inside. You are so weak that you would let a little rain, a little mud, stop you from helping your teammates? Run, Toya, run, child! The world jars and clouds around him and there are but only echoes of everything else, now is the time. The ball is within reach, and Touya's leg rears up behind him with the force and intensity of the swollen river, his other leg pushing him off of the ground so that he is floating. Floating through the air with this massive amount of power charged in him, the raging torrent amassed into a single act, the power and force, the drive and the energy, now all about to be fulfilled. 

The thunder crashes. 

"Oh my God!" 

"Somebody, get the doctor!" 

"Touya! Touya!" 

There is silence now, save for the quiet tapping of the rain on freshly cut grass. 

* * * 

Touya opened his eyes to a bright light. He squinted at it as he made out the sensation that his body was lying in bed. Have I been dreaming, he thought to himself? He squinted his eyes a couple more times, blinked them, then realised that he was not looking up at his familiar wooden ceiling at home, but sterile white tiles with light fixtures (off right now). Touya looked around, puzzled, and now faintly becoming aware of a dull throbbing in his leg. 

"Touya?" 

He turned his head toward the voice and found himself looking into his father's worried eyes. 

"Dad?" 

Mr. Kinomoto smiled warmly and Touya could scarecley hear the sigh of relief escape his father's lips. "How are you feeling?" he asked. 

"What? Whaddya mean?" Touya asked, rising from the bed. His father moved to stop him from rising, but Touya held his hand out as he rose with great difficulty. He looked around slowly, a hospital, as he had sort of guessed already. 

Mr. Kinomoto regarded his son with deep concern. "You got hurt at the soccer game yesterday." 

"Hurt?" Toya asked, dumbly regarding the sunlight streaming through the window onto the balcony to his left. 

"Your leg...." Mr. Kinomoto began. 

Touya, now coming fully to his senses, yanked the sheet off of where his leg was throbbing. He saw exactly what he had feared, a glaringly white cast covering his whole leg. "Oh no....." he sighed. 

"I'm sorry, Touya." Mr. Kinomoto had grimaced in the moment Touya had seen the cast. He knew how much his son did at school and at his various jobs (when he had any) and he realised that this setback would come as quite a blow to him. 

Touya was still staring at the cast. "How did it happen?" 

"Right as you got to the ball," Mr. Kunimoto said, "one of the other players went for it as well, he locked your leg and you went down. We thought you had lost conciousness." 

"I did." Touya said. "How long will it have to be on?" 

"A few months."Touya lay back down, his eyes wide and staring at the ceiling. His father continued: "They want to keep you here for the day, and you can come home tonight." No response. "I'll be working late, so I'll send someone to pick you up, is that okay?" Touya nodded. With that, Mr. Kunimoto gathered up his things and slipped his jacket back on. He placed his hand on his son's shoulder. "I'll see you tonight, Touya." With that, he headed for the door. 

"Hey dad?" 

He looked back at the bed. Touya's head was turned from him, facing the balcony, but he heard his voice plainly. "Did we win?" 

"No, son. I'm afraid not." 

No answer. 

* * * 

"OH my GOSH!" Sakura Kinomoto gasped as she opened the door. 

"Can it, squirt," Touya grunted as he hobbled through the doorway on his crutches, passing his awestruck little sister. 

The middle-aged woman behind him waited patiently for him to enter, then handed a bag full of clothes to Sakura. "See that he gets lots of rest, will you dear?" she said. 

"I will, Mrs. Hyabusa. Thanks a lot, okay?" 

Sakura ran back into the house after Mrs. Hyabusa left, finding her brother sitting on the couch, his casted leg jutting out at an awkward angle and pushing the coffee table a few inches. "Oh....my gosh" she repeated. 

"What, never seen a cast before, shrimp?" Touya groaned at her. 

"Gee," Sakura said, "too bad you didn't break your head, it might have been an improvement." She stuck her tounge out. 

Touya was about to come up with a brilliant comeback, but the throbbing in his leg shut him up very quickly. He simply glared at her flatly and made a noise of discomfort. 

"Sakura? Is he here?" 

Touya craned his neck back. There, in the Kunimoto family kitchen doorway, stood Yukito Tukisiro, a silver haired young man his own age, fom his school. Touya and Yukito were best friends, though it was never said between them, but even seeing Yukito now, Touya's pain seemed to ease a little, his heart seemed lighter, but there was still the pain, and it still clouded his face. 

"Yeah, he's here alright," Sakura said distastefully. 

"Isn't it your bedtime, short stuff?" Touya mumbled. 

Sakura eyed her brother with considerable venom. This made Yukito laugh softly to himself. "I think he's right, Sakura. You should be off to bed right about now, your dad left specific instructions with me." 

Sakura looked up at Yukito with a feigned look of injury. "Do I have to?" 

"Yeah, I'm sorry," Yukito smiled. 

"Alright," she said moving off towards the stairs. "Goodnight Yukito!" This was said with considerable cheer. 

Yukito smiled at her and said his goodnight to her. After watching her go up the stair, his face melted into a look of worry, and though Touya wasn't looking at him, he could sense Yukito's mood as the silver-haired boy crossed in front of him to sit beside him on the couch. 

"Are you okay?" he asked in a quiet, gentle voice. 

Touya looked down. Damn you, he said to himself. You're so weak as to get hurt like this, now you're so weak that you're going to admit it to Yukito? What's wrong with you? Can't you do anything right? 

"No," he sighed. 

Yukito sat facing him. Touya was staring off into space, something he did when questioning himself. Yukito marveled at that inner dialouge, but he also felt as if somehow he were an intruder upon it, as if his presence comprimomised something of Touya, but he also felt privaleged that Touya told him as much as he did. 

Touya turned his head to face Yukito. There was the gulf. The incredible distance between them that words could not span, but actions felt too unsure to venture. 

"What's wrong?" Yukito tried. 

"Nothing" Touya lied, and he knew that Yukito knew that he was lying. He changed the subject and said, "isn't it a bit late for you to be walking home now?" 

Yukito smiled, but not one of his usual wide smiles, but a sensitive, understanding smile. He knew what the question was, and it wasn't "are you leaving?" The question he knew Touya meant to ask was "are you staying?" 

"I'm staying tonight," he said, "tommorow's Saturday, and I'll be staying to help you out a little." 

"I don't need help," Touya grunted, facing away from him. 

"I know," Yukito said softly. 

There was the gulf again. 

* * * 

Saturday morning, and Touya stood by his window watching Sakura and her friend Tomoyo leaving the house to go somewhere, all dressed up, Sakura lugging along her favorite stuffed toy (a mangy little thing, to be sure) and Tomoyo with her video camera in tow. He watched them dissapear around the corner and then found himself staring at the blossoms on the trees. He reclined easlily against his windowsill. His mother loved those blossoms when she was alive, and he looked on as they swayed and waved to him in the morning breeze. 

There was a knock at his door. "To-ya?" Yukito's voice. 

"Come in" Touya called. 

The door opened slowly, a timid sound. Now all Touya could hear was the quiet whisper of wind in the trees. 

"It's a beautiful day outside, To-ya," Yukito said, sitting on the other end of the windowsill. His skin fairly glowed in the sunlight and his blue shirt reflected the colour of the sky. Touya looked from this onto the day outside his window, sunny and bright, with the sound of suburban families newly awakened and lives being set into motion for the enjoyment of the weekend. He could almost hear the brushing of some kid's teeth down the block, or the hustle and bustle of some busy parent making breakfast for an idle child. 

"Yeah," Touya said. 

Yukito looked at him askance. "You wanna go somewhere today?" he asked, helpfully. 

Touya rapped a finger against his hard cast twice, making full indication of it. 

Yukito looked at it solemnly, then at Touya, but Touya was looking outside again. "It's not going to help you to stay inside all day, especially in the early stages of having that cast on." 

Touya raised an eyebrow. "You've had a cast on before?" 

Yukito shook his head, smiling, "no, not really, but I just don't wanna see you moping around the house too much, that's all." Touya looked out of the window again. "To-ya..." Yukito said, but he still looked out the window. "To-ya, I know you're not a homebody and I just don't want to see it affect you?" 

Touya shook his head slowly "it's okay. I'll be fine." Yukito didn't look as though he belived him. Touya faced him and managed a smile, "The time off may do me good." 

Yukito smiled back, he knew the smile Touya was wearing now. It was a smile Yukito liked to think was very special, be cause he was probably the only one who saw it most of the time. It didn't mean that he was okay, but it meant that he could be so. "Well, you're not going to get all better by staying at home alone." 

"Huh?" 

"I'll pop in to check on you when I can. I mean, I come over for dinner some days anyway, why not come a little earlier, you know?" 

Touya smiled again. "Thanks, Yukito." 

"Not a problem," he said, leaning back against the sill, his arms daraped to his sides. His features shone back at the bright sunlight and Touya couldn't help but stare for a few moments. He then furrowed his brow suddenly, wondering why he was wasting his time in silence with Yukito. He was probably boring him to death, so he pushed himself from the wall slightly and reached for his crutches. Yukito started up to get them for him, but he was stopped abruptly. 

Touya looked at Yukito sharply. Yukito froze, stunned, not knowing what the quick glance had meant. He watched helplessly as Touya groaned and stretched until his arm reached the crutches and he snatched them firmly into his grasp. Fitting them snugly under his arms, he hobbled towards the door. "I'm going downstairs," he said, slowing down. "Might as well watch some TV or something. You coming?" 

"Of course," Yukito said brightly, and followed him out, not once again attempting to help him on his way down the stair. 

There wasn't much on television that Touya found interesting, not now or on the whole, which is probably why, unlike his sister, he was out and about quite freqently. He worked any job he could find, usually as a waiter or something of the kind, he didnt really think he had the skills for anything else. In any case, the channels were all pretty boring, so he let Yukito have the control (more like he just tossed it over on the couch and sighed "here, you choose"). It was no big suprise, but Yukito immediately switched to a cooking show, his face brightening as he watched a sumptuous meal of some sort of fried fish being prepared. Fried fish, Touya thought? Seemed pretty unhealthy, but he kept his mouth shut about that because he knew Yukito ate just about anything and great quantities of it, too. Yukito claimed that he had an incredibly high metabolism, and Touya accepted that explanation, simply because he didn't want to offend Yukito by questioning further. 

It was then that Touya thought of something. He had seen Yukito eat a lot of times, and mostly that was because he invited him to come and eat at whatever resturant he was working at. Most of the time, when Touya had gotten a job, the first thing he did was to tell Yukito about it. He appriciated that Yukito would drop by and see him, because he obviously disliked working as a waiter anyway, but somehow it really seemed nicer when Yukito dropped by or when they could eat together. In fact, Touya would rather eat with Yukito rather than anybody else, probably because Touya was a quiet person and Yukito was always busy stuffing himself with food (he thought that in the nicest way possible, you understand.) but they had some pretty interesting conversations every once in a while. 

"To-ya?" 

Touya shook his head and snapped to attention. "What?" He had been staring at Yukito's profile the whole time Yukito had been paying attention to the cooking show. Touya almost flushed red with embarassment, but he hid it by steeling his eyes. 

"Are you bored?" 

"No, no, it's not that," he said. "It's interesting, really how they....they...get the...uhh..crust...on...the fish...." 

"To-ya?" 

"Yeah?" 

"They're cooking beef now." 

"Oh." Touya glanced at the television with a raised eyebrow. They were indeed broiling bovine byproducts. 

"It's okay if you wanted to watch something else," Yukito said, smiling. 

"No, it's alright," Touya said, trying to avoid Yukito's gaze in embrassment. He looked down and realised that they had been sitting at opposite ends of the couch just like last night, and Touya's leg still stuck out and pushed the coffee table at an awkward angle. 

Yukito followed his gaze. "Is your leg okay like that?" 

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine," Touya said. 

Yukito seemed to think for a second, then he knelt down and gently put his hand under Touya's foot, glancing up to see if Touya was in pain from this. Touya just looked puzzled. Yukito lifted the leg slowly, and with great care, placed it on the couch. He then stood back and checked it while Touya still stared in puzzlement. There was just enough room left over for him to sit there and cradle Touya's foot against his hip without applying any damaging pressure, but he sat on the floor, his back resting on the couch instead. 

Several minutes passed and Yukito continued watching the fascinating account of how to season the beef when Touya asked "why are you sitting there?" 

"Oh," Yukito said, "I didn't want to put any pressure on your leg, that's all." 

"I'm not glass, you know," Touya said, his face stern, but not angry. "Besides, if my leg slips from there, this hard cast is falling on your head." 

Yukito giggled "your leg's not gonna slip!" 

Leave it at that, Touya thought. Why are you pursuing this? This is totally trivial! He's treating you like a child, you should tell him to go home right now, or do you really need babying? After a moment of silence he said "it's okay. Sit." 

Yukito smiled again and lifted himself up, placing himself carefully next to Touya's foot. Without an awkward moment, Yukito's arm snaked around Touya's foot and his forearm rested on the darker-haired boy's leg. It was light, no pressure at all, and Yukito's eyes never left the television. 

Touya looked at the arm resting on his leg. It was strange that he would notice this, but aside from a couple of friendly hugs they had shared before, this was actually the first prolonged bodily contact he had with Yukito (nevermind that he couldn't really feel anything because of the cast and the painkillers). It was casual, and warm. Touya often felt somewhat timid around Yukito, because the boy's albino features made him slightly uncomfortable. Not uncomfortable in the sense that he wouldn't want to be his friend, but Yukito always looked like such a fragile thing to him, shorter, thinner and very pale, not to mention that he usually wore light coloured clothing. In this regard, Touya supposed that he had avoided physical contact of any sort with Yukito for these reasons, but that it was no more unusual than with any pair of best friends. 

Regardless now, Touya felt a little more relaxed, and he settled back to watch Yukito watch the stroganoff simmer and hoped that he'd keep him company a little more during the course of his incapacitation. He smiled. 

* * *   


"To-ya?" 

Touya woke into a groggy state, but he had managed to make out Yukito's voice. It was Saturday then, Touya thought, if Yukito was here this early. It was now about three weeks since Touya had broken his leg and as usual, he woke to the alien feeling of the hard plaster around his leg. With as much of his conciousness as he could muster, he mumbled consent to Yukito through the door. 

Yukito pushed open the door, making as little noise as possible, into the well-lit room of his "patient." From the door, he could see Touya's body entangled in blue blankets, his face buried halfway into his pillow and his chest heaving the rythm of sleep a few more times. "Oi, To-ya," he said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed where he could find some room. 

"NNNrrrrgh.....ahhhphhhfff..." was the response, as Touya slowly raised and shook his head. Yukito giggled feircly at this and waited for the brunt of sleep to wear off from Touya. After a few moments, Touya placed a hand over one eye and tried to focus steadily with the other. He saw Yukito's smiling, bespectacled face glowing in the ethereal sunlight. "Hey Yukito." 

"Morning," Yukito said. "I'm making breakfast downstairs and your dad and Sakura have already eaten. I was wondering if I could trouble you to come down before it gets cold." Touya opened both eyes and saw that Yukito was wearing a grey shirt with the sleeves rolled up and over this, one of his father's cooking aprons with little damp spots all over it. Yukito showed all signs of having worked hard in the kitchen, including a little flour in his hair and on his cheek, which would have gone unnoticed against his pale skin, but that Touya knew his face so well. 

Touya raised himself to a sitting position. "Have you eaten yet?" he asked. 

"No," Yukito said. "I was waiting on you. You know I don't like to eat alone." 

Touya chuckled, then looked around and then realised that he, rising from his repast, wasn't wearing a shirt. For a second, his heart skipped and he felt panicked, then he looked back at Yukito's calm face. Silly Touya, he thought to himself. Yukito's another boy, just like you, he doesn't care if you're half naked or all naked. You'd both have seen each other in the school showers anyway. Wait, Touya thought, wasn't it true that he had never actually seen Yukito in the shower at school? Somehow, he thought, he would have remembered THAT.....wait a minute, why was he even concerned about this? He shook his head as if clearing away the last bits of sleep. 

"Alright," he said, "I'm coming down." He tapped Yukito's knee quickly to gesture for him to make room, and Yukito got up and quickly crossed to the door, opening it and waiting there for Touya. 

Touya shifted in the bed and removed the blankets from on top of him. Thankfully, he was wearing a pair of sweatpants there that he had cut one leg off of to make it more comfortable with his cast. Actually, Sakura had trimmed the pants for him, but it wasn't as if he had to beg for it. He shifted himself cautiously to the foot of the bed (cautiously because he had not yet had his painkillers for the morning) and reached out for his crutches. Funny, he thought immediateley after being unable to grab them, they must have slipped during the night. His fingers reached for them again, still not quite reaching and he strained and groaned. His muscles tensed and even his casted leg was being pressed up a bit uncomfortably against the foot of the bed as he reached for the crutches. Yukito watched this in concern. He approached Touya to help him out, crossing towards him quickly. 

Look at that. He does have to baby you after all. Like a little child he has to get you your things, Touya. Poor Yukito, burdening him with your problems, such a wicked boy, Touya, such a wicked boy! Why can't you ever leave people alone and deal with your problems by yourself, why do you have to burden poor Yukito with your problems? 

Touya tried shooting a stopping glare at Yukito, but Yukito was looking at the crutches, not at him. "No!" Touya shouted. 

Yukito stopped, looking bewildered. 

"I can do this myself." With that, he reached violently over the foot of the bed and grabbed at the crutches. He grasped one tightly, but the other clattered to the ground at Yukito's feet, but Yukito hadn't moved from that spot yet, he was just standing there, looking at Touya with questioning eyes, but Touya's eyes were on the fallen crutch, puposefully avoiding Yukito's gaze. Without a word, Yukito walked out of the room. Touya didn't see the look on his face, but he knew his own face was a tangle of regret as he bent his waist and reached for the other, fallen crutch. 

The ommlette was fluffy and full and it was still steaming warm when Touya sat down at the table. He forced himself, though, to look across at Yukito. The other boy's head was down, facing his meal, but he was simply pushing it around on his plate. Extremely unlike Yukito, Touya thought. I must have really upset him. Touya hadn't really meant to yell, but it was that deep flaring panic deep inside of him. 

"Yukito," Touya whispered, almost to himself. Yukito looked up. His face wasn't smiling, but it wasn't anrgy either. Touya had never known Yukito to get angry. Right now, his expression was simply...blank. "I'm sorry," he said, reaching for his fork and stabbing at his ommlette. 

"To-ya..." Yukito began, but paused. 

In that moment, they both looked up and into each other's eyes, directly across the gulf. The gulf was wide here, but it was bridged flimsily by understanding. Yukito's eyes were bright and forgiving, and they spoke of understanding that this wasn't easy for Touya. Touya smiled slightly... the special smile, the one only Yukito ever saw. This was enough for now, Touya hoped. Something in him ached to bridge the gulf, but as usual, he didn't know how, so the gulf remained there, and only the pertinent things had crossed. With a smile and a gaze, the forgiveness was passed. 

They ate in happy silence. 

* * * 

The sunlight bathed the entire park with an orange glow, as if some mystical painter had, with careful hands, crafted each swirl and flaw in the grasses in a single stroke of monochromatic glory. The last echoes of children's voices called across the yards like newly fletched arrows, flying fast and sharp, and then out to the distance in an almost poetic passing on from childhood. Yukito walked slowly with Touya keeping pace at his side, his crutches tapping out a soft evening rythm on the park's cobbled walkways. It was now about eight weeks since Touya had broken his leg, and the time passed steadily on. Touya had been back to school after the first week and Yukito had been by his side every moment he could spare, helping him to a seat, waiting in line at the cafeteria for him so that he wouldn't have to stand for long and even simply staying with him to keep him company. Quiet company. Touya had been growing quieter and quieter. Yukito glanced over at Touya's face as they now walked on to Touya's home from school. Touya's face was hard and blank, as if every thought in his head was focused on keeping his balance on the crutches. Yukito felt the welling concern in his heart grow, as it had grown throughout the weeks. He had thought that by helping Touya, he would build a bridge across the gulf between them, but now he heard Touya's baritone voice less and less. Sometimes, just sometimes, he was afraid that he would look across the gulf and not see Touya looking back at him. 

The clacking of Touya's crutches had stopped, and Yukito took notice. When he looked back at his friend, he saw where he had stopped. Touya was standing, gazing across from the walkway over to an open field of grass where some little children, about seven or eight years old, were kicking about a soccer ball with vigour and enthusiasm. As Touya watched, he caught glimpses of smiles, heard snatches of laughter and saw the bright sparkle in the children's eyes. Yukito backtracked a few steps to stand beside Touya. The sun was sinking deeper and deeper, but Yukito said nothing about it. He watched Touya's hardened expression grow soft and he seemed to sag a little further onto his crutches. They stood and watched the children for a few minutes, until one by one, the children decided that it was growing dark and each made their way out of the grassy field on their way home. The last child stood there alone for only a few moments. A little girl, with brown pigtails and a yellow backpack, stood and contemplated the ball for a few moments. Then, giving the ball a meaningless tap with her toe, she turned on her heel and broke into a run for home as the last dying embers of sunlight stretched out into throes of ritual death. 

Touya still stood there, staring at the soccer ball, all scuffed and dirty. At last he said "when does it happen, Yukito?"Yukito looked at him inquiringly, but Touya kept looking at the ball. "When do we stop being kids? When do we become responsible, that everything we do has to have...have some kind of... meaning ....and consequence?" 

" I don't know, To-ya," Yukito said, his voice soft with truth. He paused carefully, then asked, "when did it happen for you?" 

Touya looked quickly back at Yukito, as if he had asked a question completely alien from his own, but Touya fully understood the significance of it. Collecting himself, he looked back out at the grassy field, particularly at the blossoms on a cherry tree on the opposite side of the field which he had not noticed before. They were bright pink, as if they had clung on to the last ray of sunlight as it drained away into the now encroaching darkness. Touya looked at them carefully. The tree stood there like an old sentinel of time, stoic and hard of face, but Touya knew that tree well. 

"Look," Touya said, nodding towards the tree. "Do you see them?" 

"The blossoms?" Yukito asked. 

"Yeah," Touya said, the silence which lingered became punctured by the quiet shrilling of crickets. The lady of darkness had now quietly settled upon them, and, with great patience, she flicked on her lamps and streetlights to bid her children a good night. The flowers swayed in a pool of cold darkness just out of the harsh, artificial light of the automatic lamps in the park. Touya stopped looking right at them, because he couldn't see them anymore. 

"They were mom's favorite," he said, softly. "Dad said that she used to pick them mostly from that old tree there." 

Yukito said nothing, but he placed his hand on his friend's shoulder. Touya looked at him again directly as they made their way home like that. Touya wasn't sure that Yukito had understood his timid venturings into understanding, but regardless, Yukito's heart felt lighter, because he had looked across the gulf, and saw his friend standing there. Perhaps the gulf was even a little smaller now. 

* * * 

Touya screamed. 

He opened his eyes and the nameless tormentors vanished into the cold, night air. Panting, he placed a palm over his forehead as he sat up. Sweat. Cold sweat matted his brow and covered his body in a glistening veneer, shining in the low, blue light of the night which hung through his closed window. He sighed deeply. 

About a minute passed before his door opened quickly. Yukito stood at it, his hand on the light switch which had just been switched on, with Touya's father behind him and Sakura popping out from under Yukito's arm, all with fright and concern on their faces. 

"To-ya? Are you alright?" Yukito asked. 

"Yeah.....yeah, I'm fine," he said, lowering his gaze. 

"What happened?" asked his father. "We heard you scream." 

"I....uh...." Touya stopped. "It's nothing....I just...." he stopped again, looked away. "I...I had a bad dream, that's all." 

Sakura stared at him in disbelif. His father sighed in relief. 

Yukito smiled and turned to the both of them. "I think I'll stay with Touya tonight and keep him company, is that alright?" 

"Sure," said Touya's father. To Sakura, he said "Sakura, would you please go and fetch Yukito's things from downstairs?" 

Sakura was still staring at Touya who was blushing, but hiding his face by staring downwards. "Yeah, dad, sure," she said, inching out of the doorway. 

Yukito closed the door behind both of them when they had left, then crossed the room to sit at Touya's bedside. "Are you...." he began. 

"Alright?" Touya finished for him, looking up into his eyes. Yukito seemed startled, but not upset at him. Touya sighed again. "I'm fine, like I said, a bad dream." 

"You seem pretty shaken up for a bad dream," Yukito said. 

"Yeah, well," Touya replied, "nothing to be concerned about, I guess." Silence for a few moments. "Look, you don't have to stay up here you know." 

"Well, unless you don't want me to, I won't," Yukito said, his face quite serious. 

"No...it's not that....I..." Touya stopped. What was more important here, he asked himself? Sure Yukito was being protective of him, but he didn't really want to send him out of the room. He felt more comfortable with Yukito with him than being alone, which was strange, because Touya often liked being alone. Was it more important to seem strong and to hide weakness or to be with the only person whose presence soothed him? The words welled up inside him, and as often was the case, he thought too much and the words bottlenecked in his throat, unable to come out clearly. 

"Stay," Touya said, his fingers clutching at the bedsheet out of Yukito's view. Then, in an unsure whisper, too low for Yukito to probably hear, he said, "please." 

Yukito didn't smile his usual carefree smile, but a softer, kinder one. "Okay," he said quietly. 

There was an awkward silence for a moment, then a loud banging on the door. Yukito went to answer it, finding Sakura standing there, holding his pillow and sheets, stacked so high in her arms that she could bareley see over them. He took them from her, thanked her and bade her goodnight, and she skipped merrily off to her own room. Touya lay on the bed, his arm propping up his head, and he watched Yukito spread the soft sheet out on the floor with great care. He then switched off the light and lay down on the sheet, and covered himself in his blanket. Touya continued to look at him, sure that the events of the night were over and that morning would soon come....Saturday morning, and it was only one more week that he would have the cast on his leg. He lay back and crossed his arms behind his head. 

"What was your dream, To-ya?" 

Touya stared at the ceiling, pretending that Yukito's voice came from there. That way, it wouldn't be like confiding his weakness in someone, he resolved, it would be like speaking to the heavens. That was his first step, his second step was thinking hard about how to articulate his nightmare. 

"I dreamt," he began, slowly, drawing out the words, "that....I was twelve again." 

"Is that so bad?" asked the voice from the heavens, in an innocent tone. 

"Yeah," Touya said. "It's like, I remembered how I felt when mom died..." he paused. Yukito was quiet, obviously listening very intently. "I felt....helpless, weak...like I couldn't stop it from happening." 

"You couldn't. Nobody could." Reassuring, gentle. 

"I should have done something. Anything," Touya's voice shook. In his mind, the waking dream played again. Little Touya, with the darkness all around him, unable to move, to help. He simply stood by and let the darkness echo and coalesce around him in a wicked, empty frenzy. Suddenly it wasn't little Touya, but big Touya. High school Touya. Touya who sits idly by while his father suffers a quiet lonliness, while his sister grows up without a mother. Touya, who goes and tries to get a job, but isn't good enough at anything to hold one. Touya who fails at every job he does because he is weak and depends on others too much. Touya who is weak. He clutched his eyes shut, the hot tears welling up in them. Weak. Weak. Weak. 

"No, To-ya," came the calm voice, peircing the darkness. "There's nothing you can do now." 

Now. Now, Touya thought? He turned his face to look at Yukito, but Yukito was looking out of the window. Touya looked too, and saw the pink sakura blossoms which swayed in the cold breeze, waving to him, sending him a message, a message he had ignored all the time. "Do you think I'm....weak, Yukito?" 

Yukito turned in his makeshift bed, facing Touya, but his face was dark with the incogniton of shadow. "I've never thought that, To-ya. Neither does Sakura, or your dad." 

Touya rolled over, laying on his belly, and folded his hands under his chin. "How do you know?" 

"You have to look in their eyes," Yukito said, removing his glasses and placing them on the floor behind him. "Sakura looks up to you, even though she won't admit it. She thinks you're a hard worker and she knows that you only tease her because your her brother...and your dad worries about you, To-ya. He thinks you work too hard, sometimes. He appriciates what you do, but he thinks you can overdo it at times." 

Silence. Touya thought about what had just been said, very carefully. If it was true that he tried too hard, did this mean that he had focused on this for far too long and had not seen reality until this broken leg forced him to slow down? He looked back out the window, at the waving blossoms. The message he had finally understood: his mother, trying desperateley to tell him how much he was loved. Touya wiped the unshed tears which clouded his eyes, hoping that Yukito couldn't make out that motion in the darkness. Then he asked: "What do you think, Yukito?" 

A soft laugh. "You'd have to look into my eyes to find out." 

Touya looked, but all he could see was Yukito's shadowy outline and the light blue outline of his pyjamas. What was in Yukito's eyes most of the time? Caring? Concern? 

Love? 

Touya felt as if his stomach had hollowed out. Why should he think that? Love? Yukito loved him? He loved Yukito? Why? It wasn't out of question, somehow....what? Confusion gripped Touya all of a sudden. He didn't want it to be, because of what it meant for him but at the same time, he couldn't totally deny it on his part. He had never felt this way about anyone else besides the silver-haired boy and he knew that he would never again. 

He turned his back to Yukito, his brow furrowed, and forced himself to try and sleep. 

* * * 

Rain fell softly against the window, tapping gently and streaking downwards like so many wayward tears. Touya looked out at the quickening rainfall, the greying sky and the blowing wind, and he grew stern. He paced by the window slowly, now that was safe to do as he had had his cast off yesterday. 

"He isn't here yet?" Touya's father asked, wiping his hands on his apron. He had just finished cooking dinner, and they were all awaiting Yukito's arrival to prepare the table. Usually, Yukito would have been there since morning, but he had said to Touya's father something about allowing "To-ya" some time alone now that he was able to move around regularly. 

"No, but I called about fifteen minutes ago. His grandmother said he left already," Touya said. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and paced once more, his father moving back into the kitchen. 

What's keeping him, Touya wondered? Why hasn't he been coming to see me like he used to? Did he guess how I felt? Doesn't he feel the same? Touya placed his hand on the cold glass to brace himself for the overwhelming sense of dread which permeated his whole body now. He looked at the window again, hoping to catch some glimpse of Yukito hurrying down the road toward the house, in out of the pouring rain. He knew, though, that Yukito was smarter than to run in the rain, that if anything, he would have found shelter somewhere and that was probably what was taking him so long. Then Touya looked through his fingers, through the glass.... 

He saw the sakura tree in his front yard, soaked, with raindrops hanging and falling from each petal. 

In a flurry, Touya ran to the hallway and grabbed his coat, slipping on his shoes as fast as he could. He flung the door open violently and violently shut again, running out into the rain, just as his father and sister peeked out from the kitchen to ask him what was wrong. 

He ran. He ran down the sidewalk, cutting a path through the torrential rain as fast as he could on his still aching leg. He gasped and panted, his body shot through with the coldness of the air, but yet he pressed on, the dark clouds above choosing now to growl with ready thunder. Touya knew where Yukito was. Touya ran for about two minutes, still not winded, but he had reached the park, and he leapt the chain-link barricade to the grassy field in a single, brave bound. Finding his footing in the mud, he continued running, towards the public gazebo in the field. Under the gazebo, he could make out a thin figure in a coat. Touya ran faster, the continuous drumming of falling rain filling his ears. 

When he stopped inside the gazebo, the pounding sheets of rain seemed to echo around him now, and he caught his breath, beads of rainwater falling from his soaked hair. 

It was Yukito who turned to greet him, and in his hands was a large pink bundle of sakura flowers. They stood and stared at each other for a while. 

"To-ya," Yukito managed, "you're soaking." 

"I thought you'd be here," Touya said, walking closer to him. He smiled at him, but Yukito was still looking at him in wonder, he was obviously tired and cold from having run in the rain. Touya nodded towards the flowers, "you got stuck here in the rain while trying to pick those for Sakura, right?" 

Yukito looked at the flowers in his hands. "No," he said, almost a little unsure of himself, odd for Yukito. "I was picking them....for you, To-ya." 

Touya took in a deep breath. He had hoped as much, but didn't want to imply anything, but now the hollow feeling in his stomach came with a name and a face. Touya crossed the gazebo over to Yukito slowly, making every step a question, and Yukito's silence an answer. In one instant, Touya placed his hand on the flowers, and slowly placed his other hand on Yukito's face. Yukito looked up at him in wonderment, in awe. Without words, both of them assented to make the final journey across the gulf, from which there would be no turning back. 

In the pouring rain, under a gazebo in the park, Yukito and Touya shared their first kiss. 

When it was over, for it seemed like an eternity, Touya drew back and looked into Yukito's eyes properly, and saw the love for him there. They didn't need to say it, but they said it anyway. 

"I love you, Yuki," Touya whispered, louder than the echoing rain. 

"I love you too, To-ya...." Yukito said, trailing off as he slid into Touya's warm embrace, closing his eyes and holding to Touya's soaked coat, the sakura blossoms crushed between them, and their sweet aroma rising to surround them. 

THE END   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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